


there are worse things than vulnerability

by Moriavis



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Biker Gang AU, First Kiss, Jewish!Leonard Snart, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/Moriavis
Summary: Barry Allen was the de facto leader of Central's premier bike gang. Why was it that Leonard Snart alway made him feel like a child?
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 20
Kudos: 141





	there are worse things than vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRedHarlequin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedHarlequin/gifts).



> First thing's first: thanks to saekwha for taking time out of her busy schedule to beta this for me.
> 
> Secondly: this prompt has been in my inbox for two years? That's embarrassing. The prompt was for a biker gang au. I started writing it, and then realized I knew nothing of biker gangs.
> 
> Now I know a lot about biker gangs. ;)

~*~

Everyone in Central City knew to leave the Rogues out of the races. They were intense, unpredictable, and you were more likely to crash your bike trying to avoid their stunts than lose the pink slip fair and square. They brought too much attention to the scene.

Even Cisco agreed, and he was so into Lisa that aliens could see it from space.

Despite the unanimous exclusion, Barry wasn't entirely surprised when the Rogues showed up at the Friday races anyway. "Told you they wouldn't stick to the ban," Oliver murmured.

Barry shrugged. "The Lian Yu team didn't like it either, but they learned." 

He folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side as he counted them. Lisa, of course, with an uncustomary sulk on her narrow, gorgeous face; Mardon, easily recognizable with his visor popped up; Rosa Dillon, popping gum loudly as she inspected her nails.

Sara swaggered up to Barry and stood at Oliver's side. "You want me to take care of them?"

Barry shook his head. "No. They're a Central group. They'd be offended if outsiders read them the rulesheet."

Sara snorted and rolled her eyes. "Territorial bastards, all of you."

Barry laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "We're not all that bad. Square up. We're doing this the right way." 

The three of them gathered together in a triangle, and Sara said, "On three. One. Two. Three."

Oliver beat Barry's paper with scissors, and Barry scowled good-naturedly as he turned to Sara for the second round and lost again, rock to paper.

"Cheer up, kiddo," Sara said, reaching up on tiptoes to ruffle Barry's hair. "They wouldn't have wanted us to be the ones to send them away."

Barry sighed and turned to the Rogues, who—bizarrely—had stayed back patiently, as if they were waiting for someone.

Barry straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked toward Lisa. "We don't want any trouble with you."

"If it were up to me, we wouldn't be here." Lisa folded her arms over her chest, her glare intensifying.

Barry folded his arms over his chest. "It's not up to you?"

The sound of an engine cut through the air, and he turned to meet the newcomer—his bike was a gorgeous and sleek Ducati, painted in blues and silvers. Barry was impressed despite himself. Whoever the newcomer was sure had a sense of style.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lisa's scowl morph into an amused grin, and then the new rider kicked the stand down and pulled off their helmet. 

Barry's breath caught in his throat. He was frozen, catapulted instantly back to the past, where he was fifteen and everything he wanted was encapsulated in the man next door who always had motorcycle grease on his hands.

His palms were sweaty. He wasn't even wearing his good jeans, and he was going to _kill_ Lisa.

"Hey, Lenny." Barry's voice was weak and thready, but he didn't even care, butterflies coming to life in his stomach with a surge of nerves. The narrow blue hazel eyes. The smirk. Oh, god, he'd started going silver.

Leonard gave Barry a slow once over, and Barry gravitated a step or two closer. "It's been a minute, kid."

Barry licked his lips, his heart pounding like a drum. "Yeah, it's… I didn't even know you were back."

"Trainwreck's been blowing up my phone over this racing gig you've got going on. Thought I'd come see what the excitement was all about." He got off his bike and dangled his helmet off one of the handlebars before he turned his attention back to Barry. He stepped closer, and his voice was low in a way that sent shivers down Barry's spine when he spoke again. "Maybe you and I can come to an arrangement."

Barry jerked his head to point out Oliver and Sara. "The arrangement has to make sense to them, too."

Leonard shot them a dismissive glance and fastened his attention back on Barry. "Let 'em race. I'll keep them under control, and anyone who gets too frisky is out. Cross my heart." He drew an X over his heart and smiled, the slow curl of his lips leaving Barry reeling.

Without a word, Barry turned on his heel and walked back over to Oliver and Sara. 

"Rawr." Sara arched her eyebrow. "You okay there, Barry? You look like you've been hit by a truck."

"Whatever he said to you, the answer's no." Oliver said, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering past Barry.

Barry gathered himself together with a small shake of his head. "He said that if we let them race, he'll keep them following the rules. He'll take care of anyone who doesn't."

"And you believe him?" Sara asked.

Barry nodded. "Lisa and Len were my neighbors growing up. Lisa's a bit out there, but Len kind of keeps her under control. Mostly."

"Mostly." Oliver frowned. "Yeah, that's exactly what I like to hear about the group that almost got us all arrested."

"I trust him, Ollie," Barry said firmly, narrowing his eyes. "I mean, yeah, chances are Lisa dragged him back to Central because I'm more likely to listen to him, but it'll backfire. She hates being under his thumb."

"That'll be interesting," Sara said, shooting another look toward the Rogues.

"Fine," Oliver spat. "Fine. But only because I trust you." Barry beamed at Oliver, who scowled for good measure and turned back to his bike. 

Now that they all agreed, Barry went back to Len. "Okay. They can rejoin. Keep your promise, or they'll be ejected permanently this time."

Axel whooped, punching Mark's shoulder in excitement, and Lisa shook her head, sauntering up to Len's side. "Guess I should've pulled out the big guns months ago."

Barry pursed his lips as he looked at Lisa, but he couldn't find anything else to say, so he just shook his head. "No funny business this time, okay?"

Lisa smiled another one of her enigmatic smiles, and then turned back to the other Rogues. "We're free to mingle, ladies and gentlemen. Have fun, and remember to _behave_."

It was going to be a disaster.

Barry sighed softly to himself and headed back to his own bike. It took a second for him to realize that Len was walking along with him. Barry turned just enough to see Len without stopping. "Are you racing?"

"Depends," Len said easily, giving Barry that crooked smile that he loved way too much. "Is the Scarlet Speedster going to be on the track?"

"Ugh, you've heard that one, too?"

Len shrugged. "I like the alliteration."

"Well, the answer is no," Barry said firmly. "Not tonight, at least." He steered them away from the noise of the crowd as the races began in earnest, and stole another look. "How long are you staying?"

"Haven't decided yet. 'M staying long enough to make Lisa regret asking me to come back." They laughed together at that, and then fell quiet, watching as Shawna won her race against Zari. Len cleared his throat, and Barry startled, embarrassed that he was so hyper aware of Len, even after all these years. "Lisa told me you went to college in Keystone."

"Uh. Yeah. Aced my classes, too."

"Should I be hurt that you didn't visit me?"

Barry rubbed his hand over his face. Fifteen minutes, and Len was already pulling out all the embarrassing feelings he'd had when he was sixteen. His flustered, agitated longing. He stole another look at Len and promptly flushed when he realized Len was looking at him. 

"You know why," he whispered. "You know why I didn't visit."

Len stared at Barry for another long minute, and then nodded once, short and sharp. "Okay."

"Okay," Barry echoed, although he didn't really know what okay was in this context. "Great. It's been nice seeing you again."

"Are you still living with the Wests?"

Barry startled again and fought the urge to just throw up his hands and walk away. This was stupid. He was stupid. He was supposed to be done with this a decade ago, and it was freaking impossible, how Leonard Snart just breezed into his life and made him a skittish teenager all over again. "No, I've… I've got my own place."

Len nodded again, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Do you remember the stink eye Joe used to give Lisa when I brought her over to play with you and Iris?"

"No," Barry said honestly. "Joe was never the one I was looking at."

Len swallowed and looked down at his feet. "Barry, I—"

"Can we just—not do this now?" Barry interrupted, running his hand through his hair as he looked away, toward the next race that was setting up. "I'm embarrassed and we're in public, and I don't want to talk about anything tonight."

"Okay," Len agreed, and Barry was grateful that he could at least follow the flow of his thoughts this time. "Give me your address, and I'll come around. Wednesday, maybe?"

Something blue-screened in Barry's head, and he heard himself say, "Sure. Bring dinner. Pizza or something."

Leonard shot him a cautious—almost grateful?—look and nodded. "I can do that. Wednesday, then."

There was a low droning in Barry's ears as he held out his hand for Len's cell and accessed his contacts. It grew into static when Barry realized Len still had his old number programmed, and he wondered with a brief flash of alarm if he was just going to have a panic attack right here.

Somehow, shockingly, he managed to give Len his phone back and then walked away, toward the other side of the long stretch of road they currently occupied, all like he was a perfectly normal person who knew where his body was. Someone handed him a beer, and he twisted the top off, staring at Len from a distance. His focus was intent on the current race, and Barry struggled to take a calm breath.

"He could pick me up without breaking a sweat," he breathed.

"You better believe it," Lisa said with a laugh, and Barry jolted back to himself in surprise. "You're still a beanpole, honey."

"I can't believe you told him to come back, Lise. He should've had nothing to do with this."

Lisa pouted, twirling her long, dark hair around her finger. "Can't a girl feel bad? It's an apology."

Barry turned to face her, a frown pulling at his mouth. "It's a fucking mind game, and I don't appreciate it."

Lisa dropped the pout. "Maybe I want you guys to be happy together. Ever think of that?"

Barry raked his hand through his hair. "If you brought him back just for me, I'd say you're crueler than I thought you were."

Lisa raised her hand to his shoulder, pausing when he shrugged her off before she even touched him. "Barr, listen—"

"I'm fresh out of ears tonight," Barry admitted. "I'm going to head home. Just… please. Stop trying to _help_ me, okay?"

Lisa's mouth twisted into another small pout, but she nodded and stepped away.

Barry caught Oliver''s eye and silently let him know he was going, and then he went to his bike, unclipping his helmet and straddling the seat with a surge of relief. There was nothing like being on his Triumph—maybe some time out on the road would help clear his head.

He revved the engine once and spun around to face the road. Another second, and it was just him and his bike and the asphalt beneath his wheels.

No Leonard Snart needed. 

~*~

Come Wednesday, of course, he was a wreck.

Barry woke up too early, a headache pounding in his temples and a message from STAR Labs about one of the laboratory samples he'd processed the day before. Running into work at least shifted his anxiety from Len into a more tolerable work anxiety, and he was able to focus on the lab's backlog of testing samples.

Around six, he got his first text from Len, a simple: _Name the time and your pizza toppings._

He needed time to get home and take a shower, and he was about to ask for pepperoni when it occurred to him that it was pork. _8pm and a veggie lovers?_

_You remembered. :)_

Barry took a deep breath and pressed the phone to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. That little smiley face was going to end him. 

_Of course. See u later._

Concentration thoroughly shot, Barry turned to some paperwork that needed to be filed and used the rest of his shift to get caught up. He skipped out a little early so he could take a shower before Len came over, and then burned some of his restless energy by picking up around his apartment.

At 8pm exactly, there was a knock on the door. Barry counted to five so he didn't seem so eager, and then answered it. Len was dressed down, in dark jeans and one of those moisture-wick long-sleeved shirts, and a chill of sheer _want_ raced down Barry's spine. Just as Len promised, he was balancing a pizza box and a six pack of beer in his hands.

"Hey," Barry said, like he wasn't falling apart at the seams just from seeing Len again.

"Hey." The corner of Len's mouth curled, and Barry stepped aside to let him in.

"I'll get plates," he said unnecessarily, and he stole a minute to get himself under control as he got plates and napkins. "Get it together, Barry. You can spend one night catching up with him."

Hardly satisfied, Barry grabbed everything and headed back into the living room.

The first few minutes were quiet as they got their food and drinks and started in. Barry was trying to avoid looking at Len without looking like he was trying to avoid looking at Len, and he wasn't entirely sure how successful he was.

After two slices of pizza were eaten in the awkward silence, Len cleared his throat. "What is it that the Central City Citizens do?"

Barry grinned, relaxing against the couch as Len brought up a safe topic. "We do coast to coast drives, some charity. I really want to become a local chapter of BACA, but we have to ride with them for a year before they'll consider us."

Something in Len's face lightened as Barry talked, and he looked down at his plate, fiddling with a bit of leftover crust. "So you don't participate in turf wars."

Barry rolled his eyes. " _Len_. Of course I don't. We have a zero tolerance policy on drug running and murder. The Rogues even mostly agreed. The races we have aren't exactly legal, although it's a good way to blow off steam and kind of have fun together."

Len nodded, setting his plate on the coffee table and turning his full attention back on Barry. "What got them pushed to the sidelines?"

Barry set his plate down and mirrored Len's position, resting his arm on the armrest of the couch as he curled his foot beneath him. "They're thieves and sometimes they make bad decisions that reflect on the rest of us. Mark and Axel decided to rob a bank and go on a high speed joy ride. Got the attention of the CCPD, and then led them almost directly to the rest of us."

Len frowned. "Looks like they aren't serving any time."

Barry shook his head. "Lise has contacts with some lawyers around town. She got it thrown out of court on a technicality. Which, fine, I don't have any hard feelings. But I will stop their behavior from jeopardizing the rest of us."

Len smiled again and nodded in agreement. "I'm proud of you, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Barry said fiercely, meeting Len's eyes. "And I didn't do it for you."

"Touche." Len cocked his head, turning on the laser-focus that Barry had sometimes envied when it wasn't directly pointed at him. "How _are_ you, Barry?"

"I'm fine." Barry met Len's gaze straight on—he wasn't a child anymore, and he wasn't afraid of looking at someone just because he was attracted to them. "Iris is a reporter now. Lisa still comes over for Sunday dinner at the West house. You're the one who left."

"I didn't leave because of you—"

"It sure felt like it!" And there it was, the hurt and embarrassment bubbling to the surface like a lanced wound, the way it always did when he thought of Leonard. "I told you how I felt, and you were practically gone in a week."

Len sighed. "It was bad timing, but I can't say I was sorry about the way things worked out. You were _sixteen_. What was I supposed to do?"

Barry bolted to his feet. "I _love_ you!" The words dropped like stones between them, leaving ripples of shock in their wake. "Loved." Barry's voice cracked, and he desperately hoped that lightning would just strike him dead where he stood. "I loved you. You could have at least said goodbye. I'd earned that, at least."

Len looked away from Barry, staring at the carpet with a distant, thoughtful look in his eye. "You're right. You did. I'm not perfect, Barry. Sometimes people just screw up."

Barry sighed and turned away from Len, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought I was over it. That I was over you. And you just waltz back in and turn me inside out like it's nothing."

"It's not nothing." The couch creaked as Len stood, and he took hold of Barry's elbow, turning him around with a gentle touch. His eyes were so dark. 

Barry swallowed and struggled to find his courage. "Don't look at me like that. Not unless you're going to do something about it."

Len stared at Barry and raised his hand, brushing his fingertips against Barry's cheek. It sent shivers racing down his neck, goosebumps rising against his skin. "You're always so impatient."

"I know," Barry admitted. "It's something I've been trying to work on." His fingers twitched at his side. "And maybe there's nothing between us. Maybe it's all been built up in my head for so long that real life can't possibly match up—"

Len pressed his fingers to Barry's mouth, halting the flow of words. "I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay."

Barry responded by stepping into Len's space, curling his fingers around Len's shoulders and pulling him in. It shouldn't have been good—their lips met a little off center, and Len tasted like pizza and beer, but then Len's hand settled into a solid weight against the small of Barry's back, drawing him in, and the heat of Len's body soaked into Barry in a way that made him want to melt.

Len pulled away first, and Barry licked his lips, dropping his head to Len's shoulder in defeat. "Shit," he said wretchedly.

"What?" Len asked, cupping his hand over Barry's nape and stroking the sensitive skin with his thumb.

"I'm so into you," Barry confessed, and he startled when Len began to laugh.

"Really?" Len's voice was rich with warmth and surprise. "When were you going to tell me? I had no idea."

"I can't believe you're mocking me!" Barry protested, raising his head to glare at Len, who pulled him in and pressed a gentle kiss to Barry's jaw that made him melt again. "You're not fair." He turned his face to try to steal another kiss, and paused. "We can't tell Lisa about this."

"We'll play it cool," Len agreed. "It'll drive her crazy."

Barry stepped away and looked earnestly at Len. "I'll slow down. I'll wait until you're comfortable."

Len averted his eyes, his gaze skittering over the coffee table. "I ain't Grandma Esther's china, Barry."

Barry laughed, soft and embarrassed. "Okay. I take your point. Let me put it this way instead. The Diamonds are playing against the Starlings tonight. Do you want to stay and watch?"

Len smiled, so fast Barry would've missed it if he hadn't been watching like a hawk, and nodded. "Sounds good."

"Just so you know," Barry said as they settled back against the sofa and he turned the TV on, "they're going to get absolutely dusted."

Len shot him a glower. "Those are fighting words. You wanna go?"

Barry smiled until Len turned his attention toward the game. A warm, fizzy sort of hope bubbled in his chest. Maybe this time, he'd be lucky.

~*~


End file.
